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JAYNE WITH A WHY |
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January 2006 . : On My Perch at Night, I'm Reading A Book On My Kindle: .
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Sunday, November 08, 2009HIGH, LOW & STUFFED IF I KNOW............... I've had quite a week. I'm thinking it's not one I want to repeat in a hurry either. The trip to the Kruger National Park was all that we hoped it would be, apart from the French family who were staying in a neighbouring rondavel......................jaysus they made such a bloody racket there's no wondering we never saw certain animals. Anything within earshot of that lot would've fucked off well into the bush. We did however see lion - in the distance I admit - but we saw them - plus a huge herd of buffalo, heaps of giraffe, zebra, elephant, kudu, jackal, fish eagles, warthogs etc etc - you get the picture neh? And talking of pictures, I haven't had chance to download anything from my camera yet, sorry. If there's anything worthwhile, I'll load them up in the near future. Instead of coming back to the Last Khaki Outpost on the same road as we took to get to the Park, we decided to drive from Letaba, right up to Punda Maria, near the very top of the Park. All in all it took us around 8hrs driving to get home, but it was well worth it. We went on long game spotting drives, we chilled, we played Texas Hold'em, we talked, we read & we bought goodies for Chikkin, our granddaughter :-) .Then we had to come back. .Fukkit. .. Monday was a blur of unpacking, housework & other bollocks associated with getting away from it all for a few days. . Tuesday - got through on Skype to Dubs (my mum). Had a chat with her for a while, then Pup (me dad) came on. He asked me if I was sitting down - which I was - as he had something to tell me. The following few minutes were spent on him telling me that he & Dubs had sold their house, sold their furniture, sold his bakkie etc etc etfuckingcetera & they were going back to England, to live with my brother. This, after 35yrs of living in South Africa. . I threw my toys so fucking far that I think they're still in mid-air. I shouted. I swore. I cried.....................correction - I let out several heartbreaking sobs. The only sound in my house that afternoon was of my parents crying, trying to console me...............................trying to justify their actions. I calmed down enough to say I understood, but I didn't. . . Wednesday. I was a wreck. I spoke to Dubs & Pup again, but after a few minutes, I ended up spitting my dummy, shouted at them & then hung up. . . Thursday. Kept myself busy the whole day, sorted out the much needed sorting out spare bedroom & got Mikey's room ready for his visit in a coupla weeks. Opted not to have another emotionally draining talk with my parents. Took time out to think. Fukkit, my head was spinning. . . Friday. Sent Dubs an SMS & said I'd finished my tantrums & if they wanted to, would chat with them on Skype later that day. Got a positive response. Went to town, finally bought a table to put the computers on. Arranged for delivery Saturday morning. Bought a bookcase, bedside table & small stand for the printer. For once, I had a pretty good shopping experience in town. Had a sensible chat with the folks. Sorted out what they wanted me to have from their house. Talked about their plans. Felt guilty for being such a bitch of a daughter, when they love me unconditionally. . . Saturday. Fucking micro-convection oven died on me. It's not even 3mths old. Fucking door wouldn't open & then the plug tripped at the mains box. Bollocks. Now gotta take the bloody thing all the way back to Joburg, because the fucking fossils that live in the Last khaki Outpost didn't know a micro-convection oven from a space rocket, which meant I had to buy it in Joburg. I waited all bloody morning for the delivery of the new table, but by just after 12.30pm it hadn't arrived. I didn't have the phone number of the store where I bought it, so ended up having to SMS my friend Drienie in Joburg, for the number of Directory Enquiries, because I didn't even know that! Christ I'm hopeless. Eventually get the phone number for the store & called them. I explained that I was waiting for a delivery & seeing as their store would be closing within about 20 minutes, would like to know if I was going to actually get the delivery. I got "Eh, eh meddem, just spik to the manager" & I was swiftly transplanted*. I repeated my tale of woe to the alleged manager & the conversation then took a turn for the worse, when the obviously mentally challenged female that held the title of 'manager' asked me if I bought the table from her shop. I wanted to shout all manner of obscenities at her, but chose to be sarcastic instead & merely said no, I'd bought it from one of their competitor stores, which was why I was ringing her to find out where it was. For crying in a fucking bucket - really! 1pm (closing time for the majority of businesses here) came & went, so I thought that was that & I wouldn't get my table. A bit later, I got a call from a salesperson at the store, saying she would personally deliver my table. Fast forward >>>>>>>>>>> I got another call from the same lady saying she couldn't fit the table in her car but would organise for a delivery truck to bring it later in the afternoon. Just before ending her call, she asked me in a rather hesitant manner, if I'd sworn at her manager, because sed manager told her the table HAD to be delivered as the customer was very upset, had sworn & was rude. I think Hubs saw the hair on the back of my neck stand on edge. I informed the saleslady that I did NOT swear but that I was sarcastic & she should inform her manager that if she didn't know the difference, then perhaps she should go back to school! . Saturday afternoon, Hubs & myself did some rearranging in the living room. The desktop computers are now organised on the new table & my dining room table is now being used for its original purpose. . *sigh* . Sunday - today. Hubs has spent several hours trying to resolve a problem with my (desktop) computer. I vacuumed the Beemer, polished inside, then washed the outside. She's all clean & shiny, so I decided to treat Hubs & washed Eish! (his bike) with the pressure spray, so she too is all blingy now. Hubs cooked fajitas this evening, so right now, my tummy's full, I'm tired & ready for my perch. . . So, a high of the past week was precious time in the bush. The low was the drama with Dubs & Pup & the stuffed if I know award goes to the alleged manager of a local (national) furniture store. . . Please, someone, just tell me it gets better.......................................... . . . . * It's a commonly used 'joke' used by English speakers, when refering to people whose telephonic skills are severely hampered. Labels: alleged manager of national furniture store seriously needs to catch a wake up., Dubs and Pup, dummy spitting, Eish, Kruger National Park  
Tuesday, August 05, 2008PART 2 NUMBERS 6- 10Ahhh, so nice to see that there's a fan (or more) 'out there' who's waiting to see what other things piss on my battery about living in Abu Dhabi. If I'd have written the list out last Thursday night, I think someone would be appealing for bail money to get me out of jail, as YET AGAIN, a car pulled out in front of us on the bike. I was off & threatening the idiot driver before Hubs had chance to put the kickstand down. I'm sick of this bullshit attitude from car drivers & the repeated "I'm sorry, I'm sorry", because they're not fucking sorry at all. The only thing they're sorry about is being caught & embarassed in front of other of their ilk. Come the revolution, bad drivers are first against the wall & I'll be manning the machine gun. . So, without further ado, the rest of my list is as follows. . . 6. Inconsideration. I've lived in some weird & wonderful places in my time, but I have to say that I rank Abu Dhabi as housing the most inconsiderate people, irrespective of nationality. If a doorway or entrance to a shop can be blocked, it will, particularly by abaya-clad bitches who simply HAVE to stand & discuss the latest rip-off Gucci handbag with at least 5 other females. I normally barge right through them, because they're blocking my right of way. Screaming brats run & create extremely noisy havoc in malls, shops or restaurants & parents ignore them - especially FHW's* - whilst innocent shoppers have to have their eardrums assaulted by constant high-pitched squealing. They will block aisles in shops, because they can't walk behind one another - they have to stand abreast, with a trolley which contains a box of hair dye & Oud scented hand wipes . They wouldn't know manners if it jumped up & bit 'em on the arse. For those of us plebs having to live in apartments, the neighbours directly above think nothing of their mutant offspring rollerblading the length of the apartment at 1.00am. The poor little darling probably slept until 2pm, so he/she will get an energy boost around 10-11pm & want to play - noisily of course. Need a door changing at 2.00am? Start drilling for those all important kitchen shelves at 10.00pm - why not? They don't mind the noise, but I fucking well do! Why the hell can't the work be done during normal bloody working hours? If - for a valid reason - anything involving a drill or hammer can't be done during normal hours, why the hell can't they inform the neighbours & offer an apology? Yeah right, I'll get pregnant before that happens. Stand in a queue at the supermarket........................you can have either a few items in a basket or a piled up trolley load of groceries & some fucker ALWAYS tries to push in. Arab females are absolutely notorius for this practice. Go into a bank, an airline office, the post office or any business that has a ticketing system (i.e. wait your turn) & there's always one who walks in, checks out everyone waiting & pushes in before the next customer number lights up. Queue? Wait their turn? You must be bloody joking! . 7. Parking. . This covers a multitude of arrogant scenarios. It is virtually impossible for drivers in Abu Dhabi to park in alloted spaces. When car parks have demarkated vertical lines, some fuckwit simply has to park diagonally. If he/she/it doesn't park diagonally, it'll park across 2 bays, because it's too fucking lazy to reverse out & straighten up. Given the ground of a large parking area in a mall for example, everyone simply HAS to park close to the entrance. If there isn't a slot available, they will crawl around & around, holding up a queue of cars because they won't park if it means they have to walk one step further than necessary. Walk 50m in the blistering sun - oh my lord, they can't do that!! Your God gave you legs, so bloody well use them. Then there are those who just have to reverse park into a spot. They can't see out of their heavily tinted windows, but insist on holding up a line of traffic, because it's so much easier for them not to have to reverse out when it's time to leave. People park in taxi ranks, in bus stops, on pedestrian crossings; they double park & in some instances, triple park. They block entrances to businesses, park in the middle of a junction, block other people in, because they 'quickly have to go to the bank/shop/hairdresser/beauty salon' & get uppity if other drivers blow their horns in objection. If the lazy bastards could park inside the bank/shop/hairdresser, they would - but guaranteed they wouldn't park straight. They have no fucking idea really. . . 8. Customer Service. . There really is a dire need for many, many companies to employ fully trained staff - both male & female - in relation to Customer Service. Anyone having to deal with the females in governmental departments who display a blatant abhorrance to us infidels will know what I'm talking about. They look down their niqab clad noses, audibly sigh & communicate by grunting. Is it really too much to ask that you actually respond when spoken to, or is that an extra not provided for in your contract of employment? If I phone & ask my satellite TV provider to ask why my service has been suspended, when my account is fully paid & I'm informed that they made a mistake, which will take 2-3 days to fix, why is it I'm not credited with the days the service is off? Why is it you are charged for a service (of any kind) that is NOT provided? Fill out a complaint form in any retail outlet & you guessed it, I'll probably get pregnant before the company will respond. They will however use your email address to flog off to some advertising company. Make an appointment with a doctor & waste an hour waiting while 5 other 'urgent' patients who don't have an appointment, 'need' to get in before you. No apology is offered & you're expected to sit like a lemon until the receptionist & doctors nurse assistant condescendingly allow you to in to see the doctor. Walk into a large electronics shop, with the intention of paying a fair wad of dosh on a particular item & then walk out after 10 minutes, because the sales assistants are way too busy on their personal cell phones or are holding hands & giggling, whilst probably comparing who has the longest little fingernail. Dare to complain that a particular item is not what you ordered & you'll automatically be faced with an argument, because no matter how much proof you have, the sales person will insist that it is you who is at fault. . . 9. The Arrogance. . One day, not so far in the future, a solution to the replacement of oil will be found. I sincerely hope that those who are so keen to display this emotion enjoy their arrogance while it lasts, because I forsee a shit load of people choking on their bloody superiority. Nuff sed. . . 10. Over To You. . I've had a good old dummy spitting session, so I've decided to leave Number 10 to my fellow bloggers! Tell me about your pet peeve or whatever pisses on your battery, wherever you live. I'm all eyes :-) . . * FHW's - Fuckin Head Wobblers Labels: blind parking, dummy spitting, Head wobblers
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